


BlackLight

by WretchedEscapist



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce
Genre: Biting, Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Violence, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WretchedEscapist/pseuds/WretchedEscapist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place near the middle of the second book, when Nightlight and the kids at Big Root were kidnapped by Pitch. Is just a quick oneshot to test out this pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	BlackLight

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for dub-con, which doesn't progress further than touching. There's lots of biting and a little violence. Also there's a bit of angst, because you can't have Pitch without some angst. I hope no one wants to strangle me for doing this, but life's full of risks so why not take some. Right? right…?

Pitch's arm was scorched and smarting, but that wasn't the part that horrified him. Nightlight's radiance had stripped away his darkness all the way up past the elbow. Where once pointed black fingers tipped with razor sharp claws existed, now was only pale human flesh.

All at once he was forced to acknowledge two crippling weaknesses; Nightlight's luminescence, and his own humanity. He wasn't entirely sure where that agonizing rush of sadness came from, and the cry which tore from his throat as a result.

All his hostages stared in shock and some type of fascination, Pitch sobered up the instant he saw their faces.

"Alright..." he spoke with an eerily level voice, "all of you, please, be my guests."

A wicked grin replaced his previous expression, and on a silent command every Fearling around darted from the darkness to grab hold of the children. It was chaos for a moment as they were all dragged to the solid lead cages which hung from the ceiling.

Pitch's piercing yellow gaze fell upon Nightlight just as he, too, was grabbed. The boy was too weak to fight their grip, he didn't even try to. Instead of taking him to a cage, they dragged him into the darkness and to a separate room. Pitch stalked after them like a predator hot on a trail.

More Fearlings came from the shadows, and they attached solid lead cuffs to the boy's wrists and ankles. That, combined with the fact the children were no longer around to give him strength, was enough to have Nightlight's glow dimmed once more to nothing more than the faintest shimmer against the blackness all around him.

"You're so confident," Pitch murmured, "So  _sure_  you and those children will get out of this just fine..."

He circled Nightlight slowly, his thick cloak flowing behind and around him like fluid shadows; silent as death.

"What makes you think I can't snuff you out, you pathetic little wisp? I could do it, right now."

Stepping forth he loomed over the boy who merely sat back on his knees and looked up at him placid as could be.

"No one would be able to stop me..." he went on dangerously, "The children will hear you screaming."

He gave a sinister little laugh, his bright eyes gleaming.

"They will weep for you. Weep as their precious _light_ is taken away and once I'm finished, they will be next!"

There was a short silence as he observed Nightlight's reaction, watched as the boy just  _smirked_ at him in response. Bristling, Pitch snatched the boy up by the throat with his human hand.

All the Fearlings around them went into a frenzy, flowing around Pitch's feet and scratching at the floors as their excitement rose. Easily three feet taller than Nightlight, Pitch was able to hold him aloft at nearly twice that.

"You think I'm playing?" Pitch snarled, "Do you want me to show you?"

Nightlight gripped the Nightmare King's slender wrist with both his hands in order to hold himself up and lessen the pressure at his neck. He was gazing back at Pitch with some measure of discomfort, and try as he might, he simply couldn't muster the energy to conjure up another blast of light to fight the monster off.

"Maybe you'd  _like_  to be my Fearling Prince?" he spoke ominously, "I doubt you have the power to stop me now."

To punctuate his sentence, he let go of Nightlight's throat and let him drop. Despite his weakened state, the boy still looked so pristine, a beacon of goodness in a place of pure evil as he laid there on the floor in a broken heap. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees.

Impatiently, Pitch grabbed him by his snowy white hair and forced him to sit upright. He stood beside the boy as he held him there and stared down at his upturned face which wore a reluctant expression of pain. Pitch tilted his head as he observed him, a crooked smile spreading over his own features. Now _that's_ what he wanted to see. He twisted the boy's hair harder in his grasp, forcing his head back further and a little gasp of agony escaped him.

Grinning now, Pitch brought his left hand, the one not stripped of darkness, forward and touched his fingers to Nightlight's forehead. He could hardly believe it when he saw black corruption spread forth from his touch, stark as cracks of tar amidst the pristine white. Nightlight went rigid, but Pitch had him secure so he could not wrench himself away from the icy blackness bleeding deep, deep into his soul. Pitch chuckled.

 _"That's right,"_  he said, his voice devolving into a sadistic whisper, "That's right... First you, then your precious  _Katherine."_

Nightlight focused every bit of willpower he had left to fight this, Pitch did not notice the rising glow until it was consuming the corruption and turning the boy's skin white again. The Nightmare King's expression turned from pleasure to surprise and he wrenched himself away the second he felt a slight burning sensation at his fingertips. There came a much smaller blast of light than before, one more worthy of a strobe light going off than anything, but it was more than enough to send all the Fearlings scattering.

Pitch threw up his arm to shield his eyes, but the light merely felt to him like a splash of hot water over his skin. With some caution he peered over at Nightlight, seeing him sitting on his knees with his hands braced to the floor as he panted. His light was so faint now it appeared as though he would flicker out at any moment. In a second of apprehension, Pitch looked at his own arm to make sure no light had left him disfigured. He flexed his claws once, before sending a glare over at Nightlight.

"Very well, boy," he growled, "You long for death? Perhaps I'll give it to you."

He swept forth and snatched Nightlight up by the throat again, this time ramming him up against a nearby pillar of stone. The boy's light remained weak, even as he clawed at Pitch's arm and struggled to make that grip somehow less painful.

The Nightmare King, when he looked at this boy, saw only the creature which had imprisoned him for so many long years. There was no pity when he saw his pain now, there was no mercy to be found like there might have been with anyone else. Pitch smirked when the boy's eyes met his.

"Let us hear you scream first," he said, just before he pinned Nightlight against the pillar and bit down on the side of his neck.

The explosion of sensation caused Nightlight to arch, his mouth opening in a silent scream as he dug his fingernails into Pitch's arm. He tried to kick, but at their proximity he could hardly get any leverage. Pitch's tongue felt strangely cold as it rubbed against his skin, causing raw ecstasy to tear through his veins. Mixed with the pain of those sharp teeth threatening to break his skin, it was enough to have his mind go utterly blank.

Within seconds he was gasping and writhing, his legs wrapped about Pitch's lean torso as he bucked against him in a way that could have easily been interpreted as simply more struggling. The eroticism of it all was only noticed by the spectators, that is, if the Fearlings watching with their beady little eyes could understand that concept.

Pitch loosened his grip as he pulled back suddenly, and he hooked his claws under Nightlight's collar. Easily he stripped away the boy's armour, the metal hitting the ground with a heavy metallic clang. Nightlight flinched and tried to recoil away from the Nightmare King's violent touch, but he could do nothing to stop it. Soon his chest was almost totally bare, and he hardly had time to recover before Pitch lunged forward and bit into his shoulder. This time there was no shock to prevent Nightlight from crying out; a loud, wanton moan.

The intent wasn't perverse at first, no, Pitch only wanted to inflict pain. But the sound of Nightlight's voice met his ears, at first the agony he'd intended, but with something distinct and underlying. Something which caused his blood to boil in a manner most unusual. His torso was mostly bare, and right now he had Nightlight's body pressed tightly against his. The friction against his navel did not go unnoticed by him, the way the boy was grinding against his sturdy, lithe form was only to be overlooked for so long.

Pitch didn't stop.

He went back for the neck, leaving bite marks and hickeys all along the boy's shoulder as he went. Every single time his teeth scraped his skin Nightlight would scream and gasp, his body lurching as he clutched at Pitch's cloak.

He was so helpless, so weak, but somehow Nightlight knew he wouldn't be harmed, not really. Maybe it was his knowledge of the goodness inside Pitch, the goodness he kept so close to him during his own imprisonment within the Nightmare King's heart, that deluded him into thinking so. Whatever it was, he found it very difficult indeed to keep from succumbing, very difficult to feel at all disgusted despite the way he was being tormented.

Pitch took his hand from Nightlight's throat and dropped it lower, to instead hold the boy in place by his hip as he pressed forward to feel the boy's body go taut against his own. He groaned softly when he felt him roll his hips against his navel, too high up to stimulate him directly, but it didn't stop that pulse of arousal.

Pitch pulled back upon a sudden spark of awareness and looked down at Nightlight's face. The boy was leaning back against the pillar, panting softly as he met Pitch's gaze with a look of pitiful exhaustion. He was bracing himself against the pillar with both his arms now, and there was a darkness in his eyes. Without a fluctuation in his glow, it was obvious he wasn't doing these things as a distraction to recharge for another attack. This calmed Pitch somewhat.

He ran his gaze slowly over the marks left behind on the boy's skin, marks that would otherwise had faded by now, which appeared as darker spots marring his pale luminescence.

"I didn't want you to enjoy that," Pitch suddenly said, his tone low but his eyes bright with growing anger. "Why did you?"

Nightlight averted his gaze in response, but made no move otherwise. He lacked both the strength and the will. The Nightmare King's frustration only grew. He drew forward and pressed against the boy hard once more.

"Resist," Pitch snarled against his ear, "Fight me!"

The response he garnered was nothing of the sort. Nightlight cried out again, his voice laced with shock and ecstasy. Due to the angle he shifted down the wall just enough so that he could feel something rigid against his backside. Pitch allowed him to slide down just a bit further, before gripping him firmly by the hips.

Nightlight braced himself against the pillar as Pitch began shallowly thrusting against him. Even holding on was difficult when his vision was wavering and his fingers had long since gone numb. His cries were weak, deep and breathy moans escaping him as he kept his head leaned back. As the friction built, so did something else within him, something which spurred him to buck and writhe with more vigor. His fingers tensed, back arched and his eyes shut tight as he pleaded to the other male inside his own mind, _'don't stop, don't stop, please.'_

Right when he thought he was about to go over the edge, Pitch stopped. A whine caught in Nightlight's throat.

"Hold on to me," the Nightmare King suddenly demanded, his voice husky and strangely weak with desire.

Nightlight immediately did as he was told, hooking an arm about Pitch's neck while his other hand gripped his cloak. He wasn't expecting to feel Pitch's hands exploring his midsection, popping buttons free to yank his lower garments off. The boy was unable to fight this even if he wanted to. Pitch manipulated him easily, and he found himself in the same position against the pillar with Pitch between his legs, only now his legs were bare.

He was positioned quite a bit lower, too, so that the bulge of the Nightmare King's erection rested against his own. Even concealed beneath that thick black fabric Nightlight's eyes widened at the size of it. His attention was taken away when Pitch reached between them with his human hand and lightly curled his fingers around the boy's cock, lifting it gently as he gripped it.

Nightlight caught his breath, unable to take his eyes away. Unlike the rest of him, Pitch's human flesh felt almost hot against his own, and the way he was touching him was so gentle it was difficult to believe that this was the very same monster threatening to kill him just minutes prior.

When Pitch began to stroke he did so with slow, drawn out movements at first, ones that had Nightlight arching and writhing. His arms were shaking with sexual turmoil and exhaustion. His head was pressed back against the hard black stone behind him, his eyes shut tight now as he gasped and panted with desperation. It wasn't long before those movements became rougher, Pitch began to squeeze and jerk him at a pace which, after all the teasing, was pure ecstasy.

His body went taut and he stopped writhing, arching into Pitch's touch because he was finally being given all he needed. He gripped the stone behind him hard, his breath catching in his throat and his legs tensed in a desperate attempt to pull the Nightmare King harder against himself just before his climax rushed upon him without warning.

He came with a breathless cry, his hips jerking and in turn causing a good amount of friction right where Pitch wanted it. The Nightmare King held tight, gritting his teeth and watching Nightlight writhe and buck through heavy-lidded eyes.

Once he was finished, Pitch backed off and allowed Nightlight to fall limply to the floor, where he lie there panting.

A multitude of thoughts ran through Pitch's head, of all the things he could do to the boy for his own twisted pleasure. It would be so easy now. So effortless to just pin him down and fuck him senseless whichever way he wanted.

The thoughts made him sick. Sick as he felt when he looked at his hand and saw the boy's sexual fluid smeared over his fingers. The revulsion was too overpowering for any amount of lust to take over, even if the latter was still very much there.

He looked at Nightlight again, staring at his pathetic, disheveled form and able only to feel the very human emotions of pity, concern, and stomach-churning disgust. Disgust at himself for how far he'd taken this already.

Grabbing the edge of his cloak he pulled it over to cover himself, turning as he began to pace. He kept looking over at Nightlight, seeing the boy lying there, looking back at him with exhaustion and maybe some amount of confusion. Finally, Pitch swept from the room without a word.

After that, the Fearlings descended upon Nightlight but not with intent to harm like he at first thought. Instead, they unlatched the shackles from his wrists and legs, and brought him the clothing which had been stripped away. Clearly confused, he took what was offered and stood up to dress himself again. The Fearlings all waited until he was finished, before they grabbed him and hauled him off to one of the solid lead cages outside.


End file.
